


like a bird in a gilded cage

by loveyou-x3000 (Severa)



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Angst, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Life for a Life Trope, Multi, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Romance, Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, Threesome, Throuple, approach with caution, brief depictions of graphic violence, yes it's a cliffhanger on purpose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:21:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28624752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severa/pseuds/loveyou-x3000
Summary: Izayoi pledges her life to a daiyokai lord and, in doing so, promises more than she ever bargained for.
Relationships: Inu no Taishou/Izayoi/Sesshoumaru's Mother
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	like a bird in a gilded cage

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I've had sitting on the backburner for a while. If there's any interest, I'll look into continuing it, but I know this is a niche pairing in the fandom.
> 
> **Minor Warning: This fic contains some questionable power dynamics, but all explicit content is clearly consensual.**
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Leave me a comment if you want me to continue it, and maybe some ideas for what you'd like to see explored.

When Tsukiko entered her bedchambers, her husband was sitting bare-chested and cross-legged with another woman in his lap.

It was certainly an odd thing to walk in on. Izayoi, for her part, immediately began to panic; she hadn’t seemed altogether comfortable in the first place, but the sight of her Mistress was enough to incite terror in her fluttering heart, and the only thing that kept her in her place were her lord’s claws, holding fast around her jaw to keep her straddled over his legs. She whimpered helplessly as the Inu no Taishō denied her an escape, his other arm fastened around her waist and shifting her closer, sharply tugging her in. It tilted her hips down against his, setting her to writhe— which, overall, likely did nothing towards her petition for freedom.

“Now, now,” he murmured, and the tone of his voice told the Lady of the Castle all she needed to know. “That’s enough.”

It was a pleasant night. The shoji that led out into their private gardens had been left wide open, setting the tiny human and her yōkai master against a backdrop of the season’s first snow. It was still too warm for the flurries to gather on the ground or in the trees, but the flakes still flitted and swirled on the light breeze, visible only against the dim glow of lamp light. The shadows danced with them, flames twisting with the meager gusts of wind that passed them by. Everything was black and grey except for those things bathed in firelight— except for her husband and his prize, who shone like starlight in her silks and finery.

“Please, my lord,” Izayoi whispered, struggling gently. “ _Please._ ”

It had been perhaps a year since he’d brought this woman to their castle. By his account, her family had been slaughtered in their home, besieged by their enemies, but somehow this little bird had managed to flutter away and take flight, fleeing from the massacre until they’d unleashed their dogs on her. They’d given chase through the forests with intent to claim their prize in flesh, as most barbarians did.

They might have even succeeded, if not for the fact they’d set out to do such detestable things while standing in the middle of the Inu no Taisho’s path—and then taunted him in their arrogance. 

So perhaps Izayoi had escaped a cruel, deadly fate that night, but she’d not been freed entirely. Her life belonged to her savior now, and while the cage he’d put her in was gilded and kind, it was still a cage. That her lord and lady had grown so terribly fond of her was the only comfort it offered.

Quietly, Tsukiko stepped in from the hall and closed the shoji behind her with a gentle tap, completely unbothered by the situation she found her husband in. He’d never pressed himself upon Izayoi; he had no interest in exacting such cruel passions. But over time he’d made his interest clear, and Tsukiko had done her part to warn the young maiden that if she wished to remain untouched, she needed to make her own disinterest equally clear. However she’d found herself splayed across his lap was likely a result of her own doing, though she regretted it now in the face of his wife. 

Humans were such odd creatures, she thought. Izayoi’s place in the house was clear: she belonged to him, and through him to her; it was expected for one that was owned to be used. Tsukiko used her as a handmaid and her husband had used her as a decoration, or perhaps as a pet. If that changed, Izayoi had nothing to fear from her Mistress.

At least not in the way of punishment.

Tsukiko took her time making her way to her vanity, sitting down and beginning to prepare herself for bed— a task that usually belonged to Izayoi. In the mirror, she gazed on her own beauty with bland disinterest, idly running her hands through the moonpale strands of her hair. She could hear the rapid pitter-patter of the woman’s heart from across the room, the sudden hitch in her breath with Tōga’s claws flexed against her cheeks. She could see the reflection of her being arched, hair spilling down her back and pooling over the resplendent silk kimonos gathered over her legs. 

“We were just discussing how good behavior gets rewarded,” Tōga murmured, as if commenting on the weather. Tsukiko hummed an acknowledgement, matching his tone as she began to remove the ornaments in her hair. “Weren’t we, little bird?”

“Mm—” Izayoi’s breath fluttered as if she’d been prompted. Tsukiko idly watched as Tōga pressed his nose into the crook of the young woman’s neck, disappearing his face behind a veil of her onyx hair. “ _Yes,_ my lord.” 

“It rather sounds like you’re trying to manipulate her.” She took down the first tie of her hair, then the second, letting her silver locks spill heavy down the front of her shoulders. Next she removed the _meidō seiki_ that hung heavy around her neck, setting it aside next to her cosmetics and baubles.

Tōga chuckled and there was a pause, a slight gasp from his charge. “Is it manipulation if the reward is true?” 

“Especially, I think.” They caught each other’s gaze in the mirror as she wiped away her lip coloring, one elegant brow arched. “If that _is_ how you coerced her into your lap.”

With a wicked grin, he pulled back from Izayoi’s shoulder, turning her face to affix her with a questioning look. 

“Is that how you ended up here?” he wondered, though it was clear he already knew the answer. “How about you tell your lady what you did?”

Izayoi whimpered and Tsukiko imagined she was biting her lip. Waiting, she simply unclipped her bangs and let them fall over the crescent moon on her brow, ruffling them to settle. 

“I asked if I could go... see my home,” Izayoi admitted. Tōga turned her head so she was looking over her shoulder at her, sliding his palm down to press flush against her throat. “To see if anyone survived.” 

In the reflection of her mirror, Izayoi’s cheeks were flushed in a way that didn’t match her words, ripe with embarrassment. Tsukiko kept her expression composed, a perfect picture of disinterest towards their compromising position. 

“And what did I say?” Tōga prompted. 

“Yes.” Tsukiko watched his eyes flash at the sound of the young woman’s voice, no doubt excited by her thundering pulse. “You said yes, my lord. That you would take me.”

“I did. And?”

“...and that was all.”

“Was it?” Tsukiko asked, turning away from their reflections to see them truly. “How then, did you end up there?”

Transferring the control of the conversation over to his wife, Tōga leaned down and pressed his lips to an open plane of Izayoi’s throat, face disappearing behind her body. At the way her eyes slid shut - at the way she gasped - there was no doubt in Tsukiko’s mind that the poor girl was completely and utterly willing. Entirely seduced.

“Izayoi,” she prompted, “Answer me.”

Her eyes snapped open. Whatever Tōga was doing seemed to be a great distraction, sparking a vague, familiar want in Tsukiko. But she had far more self-control than her reckless husband, no matter how alluring the sight of him handling this young woman was. 

“I wanted to thank him,” she groaned. Tsukiko stood as Izayoi’s eyes fluttered closed again. Tōga was moving his attentions downward, tipping her back and letting her hang limp in the cradle of his arm as he pushed aside the many layers of her kimono. “I…” she was a proper shade of red now, as bright as a equinox flower, “I, _ah—_ ”

“She kissed me.” Tōga rumbled against the swell of her breast. Tsukiko knelt down in front of him, allowing a brief interest to show in the raise of her eyebrows. Izayoi was bent back between them, draped like a painted woman in warm shades of ivory, lavender silks, and ink-black hair, a colored compliment against Tōga’s olive skin and Tsukiko’s porcelain. “She’s grown bold in your charge, wife.”

“I’m sorry,” Izayoi apologized, barely covered by her kimono, shivering as Tōga pressed kisses along the layered, double-lined collars. Tsukiko hummed shortly, cradling the sides of her face as her eyes fluttered back open. “Please… forgive me.”

“I warned you,” Tsukiko murmured, tapping her painted claws against the edges of her jaw. “At length. And yet here you are…”

Izayoi had seen many things in her time here. She had seen the kinder, calmer sides of Tōga that appeared when he lounged in the gardens or rested in the mornings when Tsukiko dressed, but she had also seen the hungrier sides: when he returned from battle, bloody and demanding, wanting to conquer his wife as he’d conquered the battlefield. Her small room shared a wall with theirs, keeping her abreast of many of their activities—and giving her the occasional, accidental insight when she opened her door and stumbled across them in quieter moments.

The last time she’d interrupted, Tōga had propositioned her to join them. Tsukiko had wondered if she would, then, but she’d hadn’t. However...

“Forgive me,” she was still pleading. Tsukiko smoothed her thumbs over her cheekbones and gave no answer, watching her hands flit up to grip Tōga’s shoulders for support. His kimono crinkled between her thin fingers.

“What is there to forgive?” he rumbled, “You’re _mine,_ little bird.”

Again, her eyes closed. He yanked her up and out of Tsukiko’s hands, sitting her straight up and bracing her back against his arm. She watched as Tōga took her jaw again, tilting her gaze to his as all her sleeves slipped off her shoulders.

“We stop now, or we don’t stop at all,” he warned. Tsukiko moved closer, sliding her arms overTōga’s and around the smallest curve of Izayoi’s waist, watching them from over the other woman’s shoulder, silver hair slipping between their bodies. Izayoi was filled with trepidation, practically brimming with it, sighing shakily as he nipped the smooth corner of her jaw. “Decide. Now.”

“Uhm,” Izayoi’s head tilted, unexpectedly leaning against Tsukiko’s. She startled suddenly, but the arms around her waist tightened to soothe her. 

“Don’t break this one, Tōga,” she murmured. 

“Break her?” he asked with a lazy smirk, suddenly making Izayoi feel small, even as his fingers danced over her neck. “I’ve too many plans to break her so quickly.”

She trembled tremendously and Tsukiko knew she’d didn’t know what Tōga meant, didn’t understand, but the idea of the unknown was tempting enough. 

“Plans?” Izayoi breathed, but he ignored her.

“Besides...” Pressing his thumb over the magenta stripe under his wife’s right eye, she listened to his racing pulse under his skin, drawn in by his warmth. “You’re the one that usually breaks them, my lady.”

Izayoi stilled suddenly but Tsukiko just chuckled, pulling her face away from their lord to nuzzle into the back of her neck, taking in her scent. To her, Izayoi was the hint of warmth on a cold winter’s day; Tōga said she was like moonlight on snow. But either way, there was a thin veil of fear over it'd delicate aroma, laced with anticipation. Wanting the unknown but being afraid to ask for it.

Tōga returned his attentions to Izayoi, pressing a hungry kiss to the corner of her mouth. His hand tangled against the nape of her neck, tugging lightly in her hair. 

“I told you to decide,” he reminded. She bit down on her lip, considering this— teetering on the edge of something great and dangerous, boldly leaving her lord and lady waiting.

“Would you still take me home, if I asked you to stop?”

He nodded, but tugged her hair sharply for the question, eliciting a small cry as she tipped her head back. Her cheek brushed against Tsukiko’s in the action, eyelashes fluttering softly against her cheekbone.

“Don’t insult me, little bird,” he growled. Tsukiko turned her head slightly, lips whispering against her ear to give her a word of warning.

“His patience is running thin.”

Izayoi swallowed hard, heeding her words. Eventually she managed to gather up whatever strength she needed to speak, her fingers crinkling against his shoulders.

“...then don’t,” she whispered, sucking in a breath when Tōga rumbled, his claws flexing against her scalp. “Please don’t stop, my lord.”

* * *

Once, she had been afraid of him.

It was only to be expected. They'd met under terrifying circumstances, and at the time he’d had no reason to present himself as anything other than what he was. Izayoi had been preparing herself for the worst when he'd appeared, the bloodstained hands of filthy men hauling her against a tree and pinning her wrists, wrestling with her clothing, meaning to take what they wanted from her body. One man with leering eyes and rancid breath had taunted her with a blade, telling her all the terrible ways he would carve her flesh once they were done with it. How he would murder her and desecrate her corpse, cut her throat and tear her head from her shoulders as a prize for his lord. He said he would leave her body to the dogs— but not until he presented it to her fiancé before his death. The bloody, mutilated remnants of his beloved would be his last sight before they slid a sword in his belly.

She’d cried until the dogs had suddenly gone silent, distracting their masters as a silver-haired man walked the path where they’d overtaken her. 

Izayoi had watched, wide-eyed and terrified as some of the soldiers backed away to confront him, leaving her subject to the desires of their brethren instead. Even now, she didn’t know why they’d done so—knowing Tōga as she did, she was sure that if they hadn’t bothered him, he would’ve continued on. Meddling in the affairs of men was beneath him. One human woman’s plight was hardly his responsibility; he’d seen all sorts of terrible things as a warlord, and her tears meant nothing in the face of those horrors. He'd had no cause to stop.

But in the end, they _had_ confronted him and he’d cut them all down in consequence, leaving her standing bloody, assaulted and traumatized, but blessedly chaste.

Why she’d thought he would ever provide her with safe passage was also beyond her understanding. Perhaps it had been the numb shock of it all. The desperation. But she _had_ asked and he'd answered her plainly: unless she meant to repay her debt to him - to devote her life - he would not entertain her company. He had saved her life and now it was owed, in kind, to him; that was the way of demonkind.

Izayoi had considered those options knowing that her options were limited. Were she to deny him, she’d be left to her own devices in the forest, subject to the army still raiding her home and searching the woods. Their mercy wasn’t to be trusted. Her family lay slain under that same mercy—she’d seen Takemaru, her fiancé, fall while guarding her escape. They’d had too few men and their enemies too many. There was nothing left for her, there. _She_ had nothing left.

So, in an effort to survive, she'd swallowed her fear and acknowledged her debt, blindly pledging her life to him. Not knowing what that could mean and, again—preparing herself for the worst.

But then he’d dispelled all her fears by taking her to his home, to his wife, to their fantastical castle in the sky, and given her work. A purpose. He had no use for a human traveling companion, so she would serve the lady of the house in his absence. She’d been uneasy and nervous in her first few days, of course, the responsibilities of serving completely foreign to her, but her Mistress had been gracious and understanding. Even when she was disastrously clumsy, the worst reprimand she’d earned was the swat of a fan to the back of her hand, or perhaps a few harsh words. Tsukiko seemed more interested in dressing her like a porcelain doll than using her as a servant, anyway, gifting her fine jewelry and luxurious silks so she didn’t look so out of place.

Over time, Izayoi realized she was more pet than slave, and eventually made peace with that idea. Under their care, she did not want. She was kept safe inside her golden cage, spoiled in luxuries and never left to starve. It did nothing to help with the loneliness, of course; but loneliness was a mercy when she considered where else she could’ve ended up on that horrible day. 

It was not until much later that she caught the Inu no Taishō’s eye. Somewhere along the line, she'd drawn his attention, and now she was faced with the consequences of not openly denying him. Ultimately, they were consequences of her own actions; of his fondness, and of Tsukiko’s open interest. 

Of kissing him when she knew full well he wanted to claim her body and soul.

“...then don’t,” she whispered, because she trusted him, because she felt _safe_ with them, and because she desperately wanted to feel less alone. “Please don’t stop, my lord.”

The growl that left him made her knees shake and then he tipped her back, leaning her fully against his wife so he could snake his hands between the collars of her kimono and push them aside, exposing her fully to the cold night air. She sucked in a breath, but before she could try and cover herself Tōga had bent into her neck, leaving biting marks there as one hand palmed against her breast and squeezed, sending her heart soaring into her throat. Tsukiko’s hands had slipped away from her, working and the large folds and knots of her obi at her back.

“ _Ah,_ my lord—”

Izayoi whimpered as Tōga rumbled, kissing a hot trail down from her throat to her neglected breast and catching her nipple between his teeth. She started, but a hand flew to her hip and kept her firmly in place, forcing her to endure his ministrations as he rasped his tongue over her peak, nipping and sucking sharply until she was pebbling in his mouth, biting her lip against the sensation. With her head tipped back helplessly on Tsukiko’s shoulder, Izayoi whimpered, feeling warmth pool between her legs as he caught her other peak between his fingers and rolled it in a purposeful pinch, smirking against her breast as she cried out. There was something hot pressing between her legs, rising up to prod against the trappings of his hakama.

It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

“What should we do with this little bird, hm?” Tōga pulled away from her breasts to bite her earlobe, making her shoulders tense while Tsukiko pulled away the last of her obi. With the sashes gone, her many layers spilled open and fell aside, only the lowest of them remaining around her hips by the loose inner ties sewn within. 

“Well…” 

Izayoi was abruptly pulled upright again, turned without warning in Tōga’s lap to face her Mistress. It left the kimono that had fallen away from her in a wrinkled, rippled mess around them, proving that she only had one left shielding her lower half, her chest on full display as she was pulled flush against her lord’s chest. Izayoi gave a breathy sigh when his hand found her throat again, teasing his fingers across her pulse as the other played mercilessly with her breasts. Her legs twisted awkwardly so she could press her thighs together, arms trapped beneath his, but that did nothing to help the strange need steadily growing between them. 

Tsukiko watched them and Izayoi couldn’t fight the embarrassment, blushing twenty shades of red all at once as the woman leaned over, skirting her claws between the panels of her kimono to undo the last few ties. Their lips were but a scant few inches away from each other.

“Perhaps it would be best if we made sure she couldn’t fly away.”

“I won’t,” Izayoi whispered, unable to help the way she was staring at Tsukiko’s mouth. “I promise, I won’t—”

Her voice cut off when Tōga squeezed her neck, though it was only hard enough to give her a start.

“You will speak when spoken to,” he growled, tilting her chin up so she was looking at him, strained back as he stared down. His golden eyes were endless, overwhelming and demanding. “Do you understand?”

“...yes, my lord,” she whispered, and then there were soft lips on her collarbone that made her feel like she was melting, deft hands pushing away her last kimono. In an instant, Izayoi was bared, and the twitching warmth at her back seemed to grow harder.

Fear bubbled, helpless and flighting. No one had ever touched her like this. No one had ever _seen_ her like this. Perhaps she'd once stolen a few secret kisses with her husband-to-be, but that was not this, and those memories now belonged to the dead.

"No need for fear," her Mistress soothed. Tōga let her chin fall and then there was a new hand on her face, graceful claws cupping her cheek and a thumb grazing across her mouth. Her breath trembled as it came in, skating over her parted lips as Tsukiko drew near. "Have you ever known a man? A woman?"

One of Tōga's hands slid lower, drifting down to her belly and making her stomach clench, toes curling. Izayoi shook her head, closing her eyes.

"No, my lady."

"Then let us guide you."

The hand on her cheek slid down until its fingers were sliding under her jaw, crooking beneath her chin to tilt her head up.

"Submit," Tsukiko whispered, so close now that their lips brushed, that her breath curled warm against her skin and pooled all the way down in her bones. "You're so lovely when you do, little bird."

She meant to answer, taking a breath to try and mold her words, but her mouth was stolen from her—taken into Tsukiko's, who kissed her with a gentle, venomous sort of passion, chasing the words out of her mouth with an insistence that could melt boulders. And she didn't stop; she kissed her once, twice, and three times, until Izayoi began to follow her pace, to carefully return that kiss with an aching sort of excitement. Tsukiko tasted sharp where Tōga tasted soft, but both of them were overwhelming in their presence, eliciting strange new feelings within her core. The demoness' tongue swiped across her teeth and her fangs pricked against her lips until she was groaning, falling forward into the sensation.

And then Tōga's hand slid down between her legs while she was distracted, snaked between her closed thighs, and delved between another set of lips left previously untouched.

Izayoi cried out in surprise, mouth parting desperately while Tsukiko nibbled on her bottom lip. Tōga chuckled behind her, one hand still on her throat, tensing lightly as the other explored her slickening folds.

"Undress your Mistress," he told her, even as his fingers pressed against a spot that made her entire body tingle. Buried beneath a dense thatch of curls, he found the treasure trove of nerves that made her keen. "Now."

Izayoi whimpered and Tsukiko pressed a hungry kiss to the corner of her mouth, smirking at her plight. But she was kind and helped her pull at the knots and folds that were hard to reach when Tōga refused to let her go, eventually freeing her of her layers and allowing her to slip out of her clothes. Naked before her, Tsukiko hummed.

"How is she?"

"Wet," Tōga said crassly, unbothered by his lack of decorum. It made Izayoi redden and shudder, embarrassed. "Come here."

She did, of course, leaning over Izayoi to do so; Tōga's lips crashed to hers in a searing kiss, his fingers sliding slick away from Izayoi to grasp his wife's rear. Izayoi, for her part, could do nothing but whimper— both in relief and mourning, left wanting in between them, still trapped by the hand pressed against her chest and throat. Tsukiko laughed brightly against his kiss, one of her hands drifting to tangle in Izayoi's hair.

"Glutton," she admonished. He growled and the vibrations shot straight into Izayoi's chest, reverberating there. "I'll have you first."

"Fine." 

His hand fell firmly on her ass, smacking soundly and making her gasp. He held there for a moment, making Izayoi blush three shades darker as she sat as their lone audience— and as his hand skated down from her throat, traveling lower, taking up the empty space where the other had been. She wriggled helplessly against the striped forearm braced against her abdomen, breathing heavy while he played with her body.

"Bed," he told his wife, and she obeyed, laying out on the edge of their made futon. His next order was for Izayoi. "Follow her."

Suddenly his arms were gone and she was free to obey, crawling out of his lap on trembling hands and knees. Tōga stood, somehow unbothered - though clearly bothered in another, obscenely tented fashion - and closed the garden shoji while she made her way to the futon, meaning to sit alongside it; however, Tsukiko would allow no such thing.

"To me," she said, and when Izayoi obeyed she was immediately put on her back, pressed into the bed as Tsukiko began peppering her body with hungry, biting kisses. It was as if she meant to devour her whole, marking her red, grazing her fangs over barely-touched flesh.

"My lady," Izayoi whispered, biting her knuckle to try and mind herself, not wanting to be too loud. The demoness propped herself up on her elbows above her, their bodies nestling plush against one another. The sensation of another woman atop her was more exciting than she ever could have anticipated.

"Already trembling? My, my…" She pushed her hand away and they were kissing again, melting into each other, and this time Izayoi was brave enough to hold her by the shoulders as her hands slid around the plump curves of her waist. She gripped her gently as their kiss deepened, making her yearn in an uncomfortably desperate fashion— but for what, she barely knew.

Then Tsukiko's hand slid away from her backside to drift between her legs, stirring up the warmth that their lord had left behind, and Izayoi knew for certain what she wanted.

" _Oh—_!"

Tsukiko laughed against her lips and pulled away, dipping back down to suck a purple mark alongside her pulse. Izayoi blinked the stars out of her eyes just in time to see Tōga approach, kneeling before them at the edge of the futon, pulling purposefully at the ties of his hakama.

She blushed crimson and turned her eyes to the ceiling, only to close them again when a slender finger slipped inside her without warning. Izayoi gasped and let out that breath as a moan, hips bearing down against the intrusion of their own accord. There was an awfully lewd sound that followed as Tsukiko swirled her finger, pulling out and pressing in with two to make her writhe.

"Do you like that, little bird?"

"Yes," Izayoi groaned, panting lightly as the demoness started a slow, torturous pace inside her, crooking her fingers against a place that made her hips buck with a desperate plea. "Yes, my lady."

"Shouldn't you be thanking her?" It was Tōga's voice this time, breaking through the fog of her thoughts. She cracked her eyes open to see him bent over them both, biting and kissing his wife's back and shoulders. Tsukiko groaned softly when he leaned in and bit her neck, his hands working down lower where Izayoi couldn't see.

"Yes," she whispered. Distracted as her lady might be, Tsukiko's pace never lessened, deepening in its stride. "I'm sorry. Thank you, Tsukiko-sama— _a-ah_ , thank you…"

"Show her," he commanded. The hand Tsukiko had been holding herself up with fastened against his neck in a flash, folded behind his shoulder so she was hanging entirely off his body above her. "Show her how grateful you are, Izayoi."

A different part of her mind shuddered at hearing him say her name and she nodded, grinding down thoughtlessly against Tsukiko's palm. Tōga hauled her up slightly so they were no longer pressed together, exposing her pale body to the dancing candlelight and the woman underneath her. Izayoi hesitated only a moment - intimidated by the newness of the experience, by the ethereal beauty of the couple above her - before she reached out, letting her fingertips drift over Tsukiko's breasts.

At her gentle groan, all hesitance was lost. Emboldened by the fluttering of her own heart, Izayoi explored the woman who was still pumping a steady rhythm inside her, trying to return that pleasure unto her. Her hands skated across her curves and kneaded her breasts, plucking at rosebud nipples until they tightened and rose, making her moan. Eventually, Izayoi even grew bold enough to lean up and taste her, but it was growing harder to ignore the pressure building in her core, pulsing and dripping with every stroke of the fingers within her. If she didn't stop….oh, she wasn't sure what would happen, but _something_ would, and she thought it might very well be a premature end.

But then Tōga put a stop to it with a growl and a quick movement, turning Tsukiko onto her back and causing an abrupt withdrawal that made Izayoi feel impossibly _empty_. The demoness fell beside her with a soft "oof," silver hair pooling around her in a wave that tangled over Izayoi's black. Together they were the color of the moon over a night sky, shining with stars.

"And you call me a glutton," he told his wife, taking her ankles in hand and putting them over his shoulders. Between them lay his own pleasure, blood-hardened and engorged, the sight of which made Izayoi's throat go dry.

 _That._ She was supposed to take that inside?

Desperately wanting a distraction, the young woman propped herself up on her elbow and turned in, leaning down to kiss Tsukiko's forearm where it lay beside her head; and Tsukiko smiled, biting her lip when Izayoi kissed the pulse point of her wrist.

"Good girl," she encouraged, only to gasp when her husband gripped her hips, hauling her flush against his own. His member disappeared between them, pressed against her folds and pushing through them with a slow grind of his hips. Izayoi could see the tip of it peeking out from between Tsukiko's legs as she groaned, titling her hips down against his and pointing her toes over his shoulders.

"Up, Izayoi," Tōga commanded. One of his hands fell to Tsukiko's abdomen as she scrambled to comply, fingers splayed wide while his thumb dug into the bloom of her lips, finding the spot that made her whine. "On your knees."

When she was, his other hand snatched her by her nape and pulled her in, steering her into a searing kiss. Izayoi whimpered loudly and Tsukiko groaned the same, grinding against his hand as he played with her clit.

"You're mine," he declared, dragging his fangs across her bottom lip. Mercifully, he drew no blood. "Do you understand that, little bird?"

She nodded helplessly, leaning into him as he kissed her again. Tsukiko's hands found her legs and she was being guided (or rather, moved) to kneel with the other woman between her legs, knowing better than to protest even as her cheeks flared crimson. She was so completely exposed this way— her body open and slick, unprotected, hovering over someone else who was gripping her by the hips, spreading her further open with her thumbs. What was she doing?

"I understand."

And when he groaned and a different mouth found her inner thigh, hot breath curling against smooth skin, Izayoi knew for sure he'd just entered his wife in front of her. It made her squirm. But more than that, it made her _jealous,_ it made her _want,_ and it made her breathless, knowing she'd soon learn the knowledge that all women were eventually granted.

"I'm yours, my lord," she whispered.

He yanked her forward into another endless kiss, his hands holding her face as his hips rocked below her, pumping into the woman panting between her thighs. Tsukiko groaned mightily before her claws tightened on Izayoi's hips, holding her fast— and then pulled her down, too strong to escape, so she could press her lips into the slickness above.

Suddenly Izayoi wasn't jealous anymore.

She moaned openly into Tōga's mouth and he chuckled, holding her face still as Tsukiko's tongue delved between her folds, lapping mercilessly at the wetness that clung there. Izayoi had never known such a thing could be done. Whatever was happening to her was pure magic, making her heart soar into her throat and beat with a new frenzy. Izayoi's entire body trembled in bliss as she pressed her hands into the futon and leaned in, lost in sensation as Tōga cradled her head and neck in his large hands, still refusing to free her from his lips.

That pressure was building again; a spring coiling in her belly. Izayoi forced herself apart from her lord so she could catch her breath and he licked her cheek, humming darkly beside her as his hips picked up a new pace.

"Are you about to come, little bird?"

Maybe. Probably. She wasn't sure.

But then Tsukiko slipped two fingers inside her and suckled on a throbbing bud of nerves and yes, most definitely, she was going to come. Whatever that meant.

"My lord," she whimpered, pressing her forehead against his chest, her face bracketed by Tsukiko's ankles. One of his hands disappeared but the other stayed on her, claws drifting along her spine. "Oh, my lady…"

When it happened, it happened fast; the spring coiled to a breaking point and then sprang open, releasing a wave of euphoria as it snapped, shaking through her entire body with a force that would've sent her sprawling. But Tōga's body and Tsukiko's hands held her firmly in place, her own hands scrabbling for purchase on his arms as she cried out and whimpered, panting hard. This was nothing like anything she’d been warned of. Her mother had prepared her for awkward, uncomfortable nights in her husband's bed, a duty that had to be done; not this. Nothing like this.

But before she could come back to her right mind, a strong hand pushed her aside, toppling her onto her back beside Tsukiko. Izayoi went down with no resistance, weak everywhere as she watched her lord grip his lady by her hips, plunging himself into her with a new, harsh pace; Tsukiko moaned loudly, gripping blindly at the sheets next to her head as he bore into her. Izayoi couldn't muster the energy to be embarrassed, watching them instead, biting her bottom lip. In time, she rolled herself over, draping her body over her Mistress' so she could kiss her neck, her jaw, and her ears, trying to repay her kindness, feeling as though she’d shatter if she didn’t feel close to someone in her aftershocks. Clawed hands immediately tangled in her hair when her fingers found a breast to attend, soft lips searching for a kiss at her mouth and finding one immediately.

In moments, Tsukiko was trembling as Izayoi had, moaning and arching her back high, diving her hips against Tōga's as he continued his thrusts. She cried out, keening, a beautiful mess of silver hair and sweat-slick skin that squirmed as he continued to press into her, seeking his own pleasure beyond hers. Tsukiko groaned and shuddered through it all, her usual regality forgotten as she kissed Izayoi again, grinding hard against her husband to coax him quicker to his end; and when it came, it was with a grunt and a groan, his hands bruising around her hips as he pressed deep inside her.

Izayoi’s throat was painfully dry as she watched them, a distant yearning in the back of her mind. _That._ That was what she wanted, who she wanted to be: splayed between them both, however they liked, but made a woman in society’s eyes, joining with someone for the first time…

She blinked away from the sight of him withdrawing and buried her face in Tsukiko’s shoulder, comforted by the gentle hand cradling that back of her head. 

“Oh, my dear,” she whispered, lightly scratching her scalp. “Don’t close your eyes yet. We’ve some way yet to go.”


End file.
